Can't Stop Loving You
by iffulovedme
Summary: Atobe/Oshitari. Sequel to “First Impressions”. Atobe and Oshitari are/were/will be in love. Or so Oshitari is convinced. But on their way towards a bright and rosy future, something’s got to go wrong, right?
1. We Fall Alone

You can't look back. You stopped looking back and feeling guilty a long time ago. If you hadn't, surely the grief would've killed you by this point. If you can call what you're doing living. Part of you whispers the truth; you're not living; you haven't lived for years. No, what you're doing is surviving, coping.

In a world where no day is good, some are manageable, and some are downright painful, you find yourself wondering when this became your reality. You, who were once so strong, so proud, so full of life. What has become of you?

Your teammates, your family, really, cast pitying glances your way. There are subtle differences, but they're there all the same. They're present in the way Ryoh hesitates and looks away instead of rising to your halfhearted bait, Jiroh won't even use you as a pillow anymore. While once you would have been outraged and indignant, now you are only resigned. They won't let that image of who you once were be tarnished. They know Ore-sama is tired, but they also know that he is still there inside you, somewhere, hurting. They still think of you as their captain and all that the title entails. They won't let you go.

You are grateful to them, they keep you grounded. Sometimes, though, you hate them for it. It will be only that much harder when they realize the truth.

Indeed, it's only a matter of time because this heartbreak is so all consuming that no smile, it doesn't matter how fake, can conceal the pain. You know they don't have your Insight, but any day now they will see how low you, their captain, have fallen.

You don't think you can return to how you once were; you never realized how hard it was to hold up the façade, weren't even aware you had one, until _he _told you to stop pretending. And you did; he was the first to see beneath the surface, who were you to refuse? Deep down, though, you know you could never refuse him. Not a match, not your attention, not your love.

Yes, you are still beautiful, that hasn't changed. But you're also broken in ways no one but those who truly know you can tell. You're damaged but it can't be helped.

Because the one person who could fix you, the first person who ever loved you for you, the only person who could put the shattered pieces of your life together, is gone. And you've long accepted the fact that he's not coming back.

You would think that they, your family, would understand that you are no longer the same. Ore-sama has changed. For a time, the looks and comments hurt, but now…But now you don't care. At least, you try not to.

You always used to dream of the future but now you can only dwell and long for the past. Before he walked out, before you lost him forever, before you didn't fight as hard as you should have to make him stay, make things work.

But you had your pride, too. He wanted to go pro- you didn't want to be left behind. You could've easily made pro, too, and indeed that was your dream for a while. Until your father stepped in and changed everything; he didn't want you going anywhere. No, you were to be a good son and take over the business.

You were known for molding reality to match your desires, alas this ability failed as did most things when they regarded your father. Your obstacle in life and even in death he still managed to firmly hold you in the palm of his hand.

When he left for America, a part of you died. If people think you're exaggerating, they have only to see the hollow expression on your face to know the truth. You are broken and only one person can fix you. But he's off living the dream you both once shared. All that's left are memories which are too hurtful to call upon but they're all you have left and you cling to them, needing them to breathe.

You don't know why you're thinking of this now; it's been three years since he left. And then you know exactly why. Today is the day he took it upon himself to cut you out of life, and he out of yours. The day when you hesitated and thought foolishly your business's success was more rewarding than his slight smile.

It's ironic in a way: you didn't care about him enough while he was in Japan, but now that's he's gone, off to play in the Grand Slam, the French Open, he's the only one you care about.

No, you don't look back, only look ahead, but you can't see things as clearly anymore. The days pass by and only grow more lackluster. This you find funny on some days, such as today, as you stand in the center of a particular room, surrounded by sparkling objects which are priceless and worthless. On other days, however, it hurts and only serves to remind you how much he hated this room.

The room is suddenly closing in on you and you must. Get. Out. Exhaling heavily, you move out onto the patio and notice with disinterest that the grass needs to be trimmed. Is it your imagination or is the scenery a bit greyer? It is as though your world is losing color. A part of you is alarmed, but only a small part. A much bigger part of you, which today is particularly loud, knows with a familiar ache that the world will never be as vibrant and you will never laugh as freely, as that time shared with him.

But like most things these days, it is hard to be sure about because water droplets are blurring your vision. Funny, you checked the weather this morning and it did not say anything about rain.

You catch a glimpse of an important looking card sitting on a table. You walk forward, drawn for some inexplicable reason, hand outstretched. Suddenly, you draw back as though burned.

Despite the sudden tilt of the world, you can still make out the words, now lancing into your brain, reopening wounds that, while never healed, were at least subdued. Your heart beats unsteadily as you read:

_Tezuka Kunimitsu_,_ Fuji Syuusuke, _and _wedding_

But the misery feels fresh and you feel yourself pulled, inexorable, into the past.

_You stand, uncomprehending, right arm extended forward. Reaching, almost. _

_You close your open mouth, and now there's no chance of calling him back. Your arm drops back to your side, limp. His words echo, piercing and tearing all that you two used to share. _

_"Keigo, I'm going to America. Don't follow me." A slight, heartbreaking grin. "Not that you would, but…"A dismissive shrug "I hope you're happy and wish you luck with your business." He raises an eyebrow and mock solutes you. "Sayonara." _

_His speech is said politely but your eyes narrow because that isn't what he means. The two of you have never been all that good with words and what you hear hurts more than anything that could have been said. It translates into a message that grips your heart, making it tear: Keigo, don't follow me, I don't want you. I don't love you anymore. Goodbye.___

The words rankle and burn like acid and bring you jarringly back to reality.

You feel as though you're suffocating, which is ridiculous because you're outside- and then you can't think anymore because it just hurts too much. The pain washes over you and you sink to your knees. If this was your old self, you would never concede defeat. But you are far from the self-confident captain of Hyoutei as you will ever be and besides, Tezuka Kunimitsu, ex-buchou of Seishun Gakuen's tennis team, has always been your one exception in tennis. It figures that with love, it'd be no different.

You're going to have to make a call to the weather people, they're abysmal and--here you sigh. You know it's not raining, but you afford yourself this lie. It's no bigger than the ones you tell yourself daily, when the sun rises in the morning, that one day it will rise for you again, too. That you are Atobe Keigo and you can stand on your own without him to support you. Maybe if you repeat it enough times, it will start sounding true.


	2. We Rise Again

You're outside, pacing as you look up at the clouds. The first tell tale sign that something is wrong: you never pace. Oshitari eyes you, eyebrows crinkled in worry.

"So, are you going to the wedding?" Oshitari has never been one for tact. You have never hated him more for it than at this moment.

You don't answer because you don't know. You don't know anything anymore. The entire situation frustrates you until you can barely stand it. And suddenly, you can't. You just can't deal with it anymore.

You lift your hand in farewell and can't get out of the room fast enough. You are aware that Oshitari is following you.

You go back inside, grab your racket and a spare, and head off to the courts. If Oshitari insists on being in your presence, he might as well be useful. Besides, he's good enough to give you a decent workout.

You haven't played in so long; the evidence is the burn your legs feel, the strain of muscle in your forearms. Your body is punishing you for forsaking tennis. The pain reminds you that you're alive, of the sport you once played with grace and brilliance. You've missed this, missed tennis.

Oshitari didn't turn pro either, and he's paying for it too. You grin at each other over the net, remembering nationals and Hyoutei and school in general. You laugh and it takes years off your face. You are young, only twenty five, but you feel seventeen again.

You feel as tennis heals you and you're sorry that you didn't turn pro. You imagine feeling this high for a living and you wonder if it's not too late to give up the business.

But it has been too long, and you really aren't seventeen anymore so it is only to be expected when you drop your racket. Your body collapses, having reached your limit

You can see through the net that Oshitari is on the ground as well. You smirk at each other, breathless and triumphant. The smirk on your face feels familiar and it's good to at least have a semblance of your former self.

You lie on the ground, recovering and welcoming the ache and satisfaction only tennis can bring.

You're too exhausted to think, to remember, to feel anything. But then you do remember what drove you take up the racket and again the feeling of anguish overtakes you. Tennis was your game, the game you both loved but only one of you got the grand dream. And seeing as how you're the one left with nothing but memories, you have to face the fact that it's not you.

But you still have this. Still have _tennis_. You can still shine, your fire can burn and Tezuka doesn't have to be across from you for it to happen. You're glad to know that you can play without him. You can't live without him, but you can play tennis. Tennis is yours. It's all you've got left. But it was always enough before he came along. You breathe deeply through your nose. You repeat to yourself,_ you can do this._ Oshitari has somehow gotten off the ground and retrieved towels and water bottles. He offers you one of each.

_You can do this._

You ignore the towel and accept the water bottle.

_You can do this._

You uncap the bottle and as the cold water slides down your throat, you realize for the first time that you don't have to do it alone.


	3. Only To Fall

You lie there on your couch with your eyes closed, experiencing an odd sensation. You're relaxed, you realize with amusement. Someone, you know perfectly well who, is sitting on the floor, their fingers tangled in your hair. From the way the hand is moving, you know he's sitting in front of you. It's been so long since you've been this comforted. You've always loved the feeling of fingers running through your hair. You think you could stay here, like this, forever. It feels surreal, this peace. Dream like, almost. And like all dreams, this one, too has a rude awakening.

Because you just had to open your mouth, had to murmur, "Love you, Kunimitsu."

There was silence and you feel he's staring at you. You smile, smug that you must've surprised him. You never say the 'L' word, not if you can help it. The fingers combing through your hair stop.

"No, Keigo." And the voice, while familiar and also deep, is not _his. _

You open your eyes. You see hurt in those normally bright, inquisitive eyes. And it distresses you to know you're the one responsible for the pain. "Yuushi," you say, a pleading note in your voice.

He closes his eyes. In pain, you think guiltily. "It's okay, Keigo."

"No," you object. "It's not. I'm sorry."

"Keigo. I hate to break it to you, but Tezuka's gone. He's getting _married_. In," a quick glance at the calendar hanging on the wall, "less than a week." The words sound oddly bitter even though he says them quietly.

"I know," you say. It's all you can say. "I know, he's gone."

"Do you? I don't think you do." He lets out a bark of laughter, not at you, but at himself. "It's funny, they always said you would never love anyone more than you love yourself. I wish they could see you now. Atobe Keigo, pining over someone."

You feel yourself getting angry. "Oh, yes, _I'm_ the one who's pining." The light in his eyes changes and you can't stop. You know you're going to go too far. You've _always_ gone too far. "You had your chance Yuushi. But you blew it."

He wants to slap you. But he won't. You wish he would, though. Instead, he stands up and sneers, saying coldly, "Don't bother getting up. I can find the door myself."

You lean back on the couch, having half risen; half because you realized he wasn't coming back. You thought you'd let Kunimitsu go, thought you'd made improvement. Stupid, Yuushi. He just had to mess things up. It's not his fault, though. It's yours. He's your best friend. You love him like a brother. But he's always felt something more. At one point, during your high school years, you thought you did too.

You close your eyes again. But the peace is gone, shattered by reality.

You'll have to fix this later; Yuushi is still, will always be, very important to you. But later. Later, because the part of you that still loves Kunimitsu, the part that you've only just realized is still very much in existence, demands all your strength at the moment and you don't think you can carry, can be responsible for Yuushi's love. Not when you can barely manage your own uncontrollable love for someone who's already moved on.

It's somewhat ironic and completely screwed up, but maybe, just maybe, you and Yuushi aren't so different after all.


	4. We Make Mistakes

You're in a foul mood. It's evident in your angrily flashing eyes, the slump of the shoulders and the dangerous arch of your eyebrow. But you're also sad which shows in the wavering scowl, the laziness that has overcome you and the reason for your perpetual silence.

You and Oshitari haven't spoken since that day three weeks ago. Only three weeks, you think numbly. You don't want to apologize. But think you must if you want to keep your friendship with him. But, it's more than that. You think you love him. Have loved him from his first day at Hyoutei. Something in his casual arrogance, his mannerisms that are so akin to yours that you feel he could actually understand.

You blame time. If only you'd met Oshitari before meeting Tezuka, if only you'd fallen in love with Oshitari first. You met Tezuka at the tennis camp you'd both previously attended and had felt drawn to his strength and natural leadership. It was strange; there were rumors after you'd returned that you'd had sex. But the two of you had never even kissed. The relationship you had wasn't based on sexual favors, it was about something deeper. Miserably, you almost wished it hadn't been. Then you could tell Oshitari without wincing that you only cared about Tezuka because he was physically attractive, which he was. But that wasn't the only reason, and Oshitari knew it.

The sexual relationship came years later, in college. The two of you chose the same school and immediately felt the attraction. You'd never been in love before, how were you suppose to tell if it was real or if it was puppy love?

Tezuka was perfect. He was gorgeous, both physically and mentally. He was smart and had a presence that rivaled your own. And he wore glasses. He was perfect for you. A perfect distraction. That first year you went to his room and told him in succinctly that you were on the rebound. He said he didn't care. He stroked your cheek and called you beautiful. He said, as you allowed yourself to be skillfully kissed, that he wouldn't mind being anything of yours, asked if you could be his. You said yes and he shut the door of his room. You were lucky he had a single and no roommate. You found yourself falling in love with Tezuka, you couldn't help it. He was the Tezuka Zone and you were the tennis ball, helplessly drawn to his affection.

What you had with Oshitari before you ended it, before you left him and he let you walk away, was true love. You realize that now. You thought you'd be able to tell the difference between puppy love and true love. You were wrong. But how were you supposed to know that teenagers could fall in love? How were you supposed to know that what you had with Tezuka, puppy love, didn't mean forever?

You switched the two, thinking you had the real thing with Tezuka. He truly was a perfect distraction if you believed you loved him.

But then Fuji entered the picture and claimed Tezuka.

Tezuka was waiting for you to claim him, but you were still waiting for Oshitari to realize his mistake.

Fed up and resigned, Tezuka left and now he's getting married to Fuji. Everything is so messed up, is the conclusion you get.

Puppy love wasn't supposed to make your heart hurt. You must have a fallen a little bit in love with Tezuka, then, because when he left you it was as though you had forgotten how to breathe. And again, you remember your reaction all too well, to when you discovered his wedding invitation. No, correction, their wedding invitation.

He's getting married and you still haven't decided whether or not you're going. You should, but you don't know if you're physically able. If you're mentally strong enough. For example, you haven't gotten out of bed for the past twenty four hours. You've told your servants not to bother you; you'll ring if you want something.

You're moody, wondering about Tezuka and Oshitari, and in general, at a loss. There is only one person who you can call.

"Jiroh?"

"Keigo, what's wrong?" is the first thing Jiroh says when he answers the phone.

"How'd you know it was me?"

He laughs, carefree and happy if a bit sleepily. "Ah, Keigo. Nobody but you would call this late. Or should I say early?"

"Sorry," you say, but you don't mean it. You've lost track of time while you've stayed in bed with the blinds drawn. Besides, you know he's secretly pleased you confide in him. But who else would you confide in? You've pushed everyone else away. You always have.

"So what's up?" He sounds anxious.

"I messed up with Oshitari," you admit.

"_Keigo_!" is the frustrated reply. "I thought you got it all worked out!"

"I..we did. But then I called him Kunimitsu." You shut your eyes, waiting for the explosion.

"Keigo! I don't believe it. Poor Yuushi. No wonder he sounded so upset."

"He called you?" you are instantly wide away, never mind how late – or early – it is.

"Yeah, he said he couldn't deal with you. He told me you'd be calling me any day now."

You don't say anything to that. What would you say? That Yuushi knew you too well?

"Keigo, I know what you did." Jiroh is soft, he sounds nervous again but with a touch of steel; he's determined to speak his mind.

You are amused. "What did I do?" you ask, placating.

"I know why you broke up with Oshitari, end of our senior year."

You freeze, knowing he can't see you. "No, you don't," you answer stiffly.

"Yes, I do." He sounds stubborn.

You remember, he attended Hyoutei too. Which means he also knows that, "Gakuto loved him," you automatically spew, telling him as you have told yourself so many, many times before.

"But so did you." Jiroh sounds confused but confident.

"It was puppy love," you dismiss.

He protests, "No it wasn't! You really liked him."

"I was deluding myself. I looked for Tezuka in him," you rattle off the reasons.

"But you didn't find him, you fell in love with who you did find instead," Jiroh plows on. It's his turn to be dismissive.

"No," you object plainly. It's like talking to yourself.

"Yes. You loved him, Keigo. You still do," he says the last part softly.

You can't argue with that. You question, "But why do I still have feelings for Tezuka?"

"Oh, Keigo," Jiroh sounds tired, but not sleepy. "You're so mixed up."

You can't deny that this is true. You can't stand the quiet and you've been wondering this for a while, all alone in your dark bedroom. "You know what you said to me, all those years ago?

"Oh, that you'd be alone? But I was wrong, I'm still here. And Yuushi loves you. Really loves you. You know what you have to do."

You continue pressing the phone to your ear until you hear the dial tone. He's gone.

You hear the door bell ring from downstairs a scant fifteen minutes later. You close your eyes, knowing who you will see when you open them. You know even as the manservant knocks on the door before opening it, and letting him.

"They said you were sleeping," Jiroh says.

"I couldn't sleep," you reply.

"I didn't want you to be alone," he says, fidgeting the doorway.

"But it's so early," you tease lightly, waiting to see what he'll do.

He's looking at the bed, not at you so he doesn't see your sigh of resignation.

"Come here," you say, a half hearted order.

"Really? You're sure it's okay?"

You're not sure to what he's referring to. Between you and Oshitari, the call you sort of promised you'd make but didn't, the fact that Jiroh is here now and not who you want to be standing in his place, caring for you. The fact that you know Jiroh still has a crush on you, left over from your glorious days at Hyoutei.

At your nod, to what you haven't decided yet, he falls onto your bed, his feet dangling over the edge. He kicks off his shoes before lying on top of the covers. You wonder idly if he'll dare come underneath, pretend it's too cold.

You allow him to get close enough so can smell his strawberry shampoo. Yeah, you think, it's okay. Besides, you've missed the heavy weight of a body next to yours. Not to mention the warmth. He shifts, making himself comfortable.

"'s okay, Keigo," he assures you, yawning. His eyes close.

He understands, you think, as you tentatively drape an arm around him. You decided, knowing it's a mistake you'll pay for later. He deserves that much, at least.

If he wasn't your best friend, you would probably be in love with him. He's beautiful, sweet, and a talented tennis player. You made that mistake with Yuushi. You thought you could establish a friends-with-benefits relationship and still keep your heart intact. You thought you'd be fine; you were still getting over Tezuka.

Now, after school is over, you find yourself in the exact same situation.

You told no one, but Jiroh slept over that night. Nothing happened, though you suspect he wanted it to. But he accepted your decision. He said, "It's okay, Keigo. I'm just happy you trust me. Let me be there for you, that's all I ask."

True to his word, he has always been there.

You kiss him on the forehead in thanks. He stretches his head at the last moment and your lips brush his softly. His eyes snap open in astonishment. Something unidentifiable flits through them before they flutter shut. He brings his arms up to wind around your neck, pulling you close.

Jiroh has grown up too, you think hazily. He wasn't nearly so decisive or demanding in high school.

"It'll be okay, Keigo. We all make mistakes," he whispers. Coming from a sweet boy, so sweetly deceptive.


	5. We're Only Human

Your eyes stay open during the kiss but you don't move away until he starts to tug at your shirt, wanting it off. Then, you pull away. He unhooks himself from you, but keeps his eyes closed for a few seconds, perhaps memorizing what had just happened. Now that he has let you go, you don't immediately move as far away as possible. You disliked how he clung to you, so desperate, so un-Jiroh like. But now that he's let you go, you wish he would've hung on a little longer. There's a distance now, between you. You suspect it was always there in some form, but now there are set lines. And he chose to cross them. He chose to make the void known. And you let it happen.

His eyes open and they're shining with unshed tears. You tense, waiting for the tears which don't come.

"I'm not going to apologize," he begins. He takes a deep breath, his entire frame shaking. "I'm not sorry."

"Okay," is all you can say. You don't want to hurt him. You have a reputation for being ruthless, for crushing those you deem unworthy. But you care about Jiroh and you'll do anything to spare him a moment of pain.

"Will you tell him?" he asks, his voice low but no longer shaking.

You have to think for a moment. "If he asks, I will not deny it." In other words, you will keep your silence if Jiroh doesn't want anyone to know. You are giving him the choice of forgetting the kiss ever happened.

Jiroh ponders your answer before jerkily giving a short nod. "Okay. Tell him, then. I don't want there to be anymore secrets between the two of you."

He shrugs and the silence is not a familiar comfortable one. You hate it.

"You've been chasing after me for a while, haven't you?" You don't ask to be mean; Jiroh doesn't deserve that. You are just curious and nothing can cure you of it.

Jiroh starts to shake his head no but then stops. He cracks a weary smile. "Yeah. But at the same time, no. It's been years. I don't know how long I liked you." He's lying, you can tell. He can probably tell you the day he started to like you, but you say nothing. You don't call him on it; he doesn't deserve that either.

The air between you is too heavy.

"So did I live up to your fantasies?" you joke, only half serious. You wince and can tell instantly that it's the wrong thing to say. Jiroh seems to collapse in on himself, though he stays stock still. He's still shaking, you realize guilty.

"No," he says. There is pain in his voice. He's trying to suppress it but to you, who knows the tone so well, it clangs like a bell and cuts through every illusion he's created, every pretense that he's fine. "No, because in my dreams you loved me." His shoulders slump and he looks so dejected you can't help yourself. You gather him in your arms and he rests his head against your chest.

"Jiroh, I do love you…" You manage to kiss his forehead this time. Best friends falling for each other. It's so cliché but you never knew clichés could hurt so badly or scar permanently. "Jiroh…" you can't say anything else but his name. But maybe that's all it takes because he seems to shake himself. You don't know how to make this right. Don't know if you can.

"Don't say anything, Atobe. You've done enough." He frees himself as your last name slips from his lips, almost like an accident but it makes you freeze.

"Wha-No…Jiroh…Call me Keigo," you demand, forgetting that you are no longer at Hyoutei and have no real power over him. You reach for him, grab his wrist, utterly desperate. He's never _ever _called you by your last name. From day one it was always Keigo or Tobe, or when he was serious, Buchou. _Never Atobe._

Jiroh wrenches himself away, not sobbing inconsolably but looking at you with distain. That burns, too.

"Oh, so _now_ you care." He crosses his arms, petulant.

"Jiroh, I'll always care about you." You mean every word of it.

"Yuushi isn't the only romantic out of us regulars. I also believe in love and soul mates. I guess you found yours in Yuushi."

"You'll meet someone better than me," you assure him. You're not trying to be condescending.

"Oh, I know. I'm actually going out with Marui Bunta right now."

"What? That's great!" You might seem a little overzealous but you are pleased. "I know how long you've liked him."

"Thanks," he says carelessly, like it doesn't matter. His insincerity disheartens you.

"But then why.." you trail off. You don't understand. You want to so badly, but it's beyond your comprehension. You're supposedly the epitome of poise and social grace. However, there's no handbook that teaches how to break your best friend's heart.

Jiroh smiles a little sadly at your confusion. "It's just, I wanted to see what it felt like. That's all."

He says it with feigned disinterest. He's not fooling anyone.

"Just…be happy, Keigo. Can you do that for me?"

You think you can, for Jiroh.

He makes to leave when you're spurred to say something, anything, to keep him with you a little longer. You want things to work out. You don't want to lose your best friend.

"Jiroh, why did you love me?"

Instantly the look of hurt and sorrow is back in his face and you want to kick yourself.

His tone is quiet, angry, sad. None of those things are Jiroh and it pains you. "No, Keigo. You don't get to ask me that."

You understand and are about to tell him it's fine when his cell phone rings and he answers it.

"Hey. Yeah, I can come over." He rolls his eyes but you can tell he's not annoyed.

"That him?" you ask, trying to make things normal.

"Uh-huh. Guess I better go."

But he doesn't move for another five minutes. You walk him to the door in your pajamas.

"Keigo." His back is turned and you can't see what expression he has on. "I'm not sorry for what I did. But you shouldn't worry; it won't happen again." He sounds dangerously close to tears and you're about to wheel him around when he exits.

You walk back to your room, about to lie on the bed when you stop. Instead, you open the blinds and tell a maid to get a bath ready. You have to do it, have to talk to Yuushi, in person. It's what Jiroh would want you to do.

You remember how much Jiroh used to like Marui Bunta. You think it's incredible that Jiroh finally got with his idol. Back at Hyoutei you had contemplated playing match maker, but even with your Insight, you didn't see the flaw in the plan. Didn't see that Jiroh distracted himself all those years in school because he couldn't have you. Didn't see how Jiroh's eyes only lit up when you were around. But some part of you must've, which is why you let him kiss you. You'll tell Yuushi that Jiroh kissed you, but nothing else. You owe Jiroh that much, and so much more.


	6. Take My Hand

Despite your resolve to see Yuushi, you don't get around to leaving your house until dark. It's too late to visit; too late to be socially acceptable. Your good manners have been ingrained and you know that you can't see him. You argue with yourself for the millionth time. Maybe he doesn't want to see you. Maybe it's really over. Maybe he doesn't love you. You stomp on these thoughts, ordering them to run laps and pick up balls before ordering yourself to get a _grip_. Ironically, it's these very doubts that cement your decision and hasten your departure. You are not going to give up. Not because of social politeness. Not on someone who means so much to you. Not someone you love.

Yuushi bothers to look surprised at your showing up at his house for about three seconds.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, seemingly bored. He's just gotten out of the shower; his hair is wet and smells good. Like strawberries, you think hazily. Like Jiroh. You push that thought away hastily. It's late but he's in a business suit that fits him in all the right places. It's the weekend which calls for sophisticated yet causal. So what's with the suit, you wonder. His attire, while it doesn't rival yours, is almost impeccable except that one thing. He doesn't look like the Yuushi you know. Your Yuushi would never be caught dead in a suit on the weekend. Your eyes zoom in on his collar, which is sticking up, and you itch to fold it down.

You steer your mind back to the question, which you ignore. Why answer something you both know? He' stalling and it irks you. You're both too old to be playing games. "Can I come in?" you ask instead. "Or were you going out?" You stare at the suit pointedly.

He shakes his head and your heart stops beating for a moment. Then he says, "No, I just got home."

You take that as a yes and begin to walk inside. You pause, considering the sleeping people in his house. "Actually, can we go for a walk?" You hate how your hands won't stop trembling. What is wrong with you? You've gone on walks with him a million times before.

"Whatever." He nods and goes to get his jacket. You stop yourself from helping him, knowing he hates to be asked. You wonder if he acknowledges the amount of useless, petty things you know. Wonder if he even cares. It hurts too much to think about so you don't. Instead, you bite your lip as he leads the way. "Where you do want to go?" he tosses back over his shoulder.

"Some place where we can talk," you tell him. You wince; you sound mysterious and he hates pretenses. Whatever, you can't mold your life to his needs. You're still trying to figure out what he wants from you, let alone what he needs.

He takes you to the neighborhood playground. There are no little kids around; it's too late for that. You look at your wrist watch and see it's nearly eleven. He's only standing a foot from you but you wish he was closer.

"Where were you tonight?" you probe, not meaning to sound accusatory but doing so anyway.

"Not that it's any of your business but I was on a date." His lips quirk in a mocking smile. Your stomach plummets. "My dad's trying to set me up with this girl."

At once you wish you were at a tennis court instead. Using a racket and a ball you'd take out you anger and horror on invisible opponents. You'd serve the ball again and again. Keep serving until you were unable to move. Because never has it occurred to you that you might not get your way. You've always gotten what you wanted. That Yuushi might not be yours but someone else's was never an option you'd considered. It still isn't. Unless.

"Do you like her?"

You can't look at him. The weight of Yuushi's stare is incredible and it actually weighs you down.

"She didn't like me very much. Said I was stupid." Yuushi is smiling and you wish you didn't want to know why. You don't think you'll be able to bear it if turns out he's head over heels in love with her.

"Sounds like a charmer." When he says nothing, you continue, "Yuushi, you can't like her. You told me you only went out with smart people."

"Oh, but she is smart." Yuushi has the strangest look on his face, halfway between serious and a smile.

"Yuushi, she thinks you're stupid. She can't be that bright." Your logic seems spotless.

"She is. " He looks at you again, that same stare that pins you to the spot. "She said I was stupid for going on a date," he paused, taking a deep breath, "when I was so obviously in love with someone else."

Your response to that, you'll bet, is nothing like how he imagined. He probably thought you'd throw your arms around him and passionately kiss him. And you want to. Badly. But you have to say something first.

"Jiroh and I kissed," you blurt out.

He blinks but doesn't say anything. He does a half turn so you can see his profile. He's tense; his back is stick-straight. He's not ready to speak and you don't know what will happen when he is.

"What am I to you?" he asks suddenly.

"Huh? You know I love you." It sounds trite and old even to you. "Well…" you start again but stop. Yuushi is not stupid; he knows you love him. At least, he should. He wants you to say something else. But you don't know what he wants to hear. It should be easy, you think. What does he want to hear?

"And?" is the terse response.

"It didn't mean anything," you say hurriedly, reading off the impromptu speech. It's not what he wants to hear, but it's better than silence. "Jiroh understands I only like him as a friend." You don't know what else to say.

You walk up to him, wary that he might be upset. You pray you didn't say the wrong thing.

"God, Keigo. That's not what I meant. This is so fucked up." You've never heard him curse before. He's angry, but not at you. The sudden relief fades as a new fear arises.

"What is?" you ask, scared he might be talking about the two of you.

"These games!" Yuushi explodes. He rounds on you, throwing his hands up, a mock gesture of defeat. You know that it's only the beginning of another battle. And you're right. His face is grave as he gives you the ultimatum, "Keigo, the games have _got _to stop. Or we're over."

"That's funny. I wasn't aware I was playing a game. I thought this was serious." You're close to crying, you can feel it in the pressure behind your eyelids.

He softens ever so slightly, his back relaxing from its ruler straight position. He runs a hand through his hair, a move he no doubt picked up from you. "We've been playing this game for so long, I just don't know. I know we're both different people. I know it didn't work out in the past. But even after all this time, I can't help wanting us to work out."

He holds out his hand and you know what to do. You take it. You don't say anything; there's nothing more to say. Instead, you examine him, noticing the angular planes of his face; the arch of his lips, the dip of his eyebrows.

"Your face is oddly symmetrical. It's beautiful," you comment without thinking.

Yuushi looks at you like you've grown a second head or maybe lost the one you have. Then he's laughing, jovial and incredulous. You flush at your own stupidity. Yuushi has always had the uncanny ability to make you drop your guard. You scowl, resentful. But then you rerun that thought and see how paranoid you've has become. This is Yuushi for heaven's sake. _Your _Yuushi. There's no need to pretend. He's seen you at your worst and at your best.

He takes your face in his hands, cradling it. You've missed his touch, missed him. His hair falls forward and you smell strawberries. "Keigo," he breathes your name onto your face. "You look like you've just had an epiphany. Care to enlighten me?"

"Ore-sama has grown up," you tell him. You feel giddy, like you've become new person. Maybe you have.

He smiles and you search for a trace of sarcasm.

"Oh, no. I believe you." You always think you've gotten used to him reading your mind until he does it.

"Good."

"It is," Yuushi concedes, ever the gentleman. "I've been lonely waiting for you."

You're waiting for him to kiss you. And he knows it.

"Sorry," you say. You take his hands that are holding your chin in your own, bringing them down to waist level. You figure he's been waiting long enough and, by standing on the balls of your feet, breach the gap between the two of you with a tantalizingly sweet kiss.


	7. Take My Heart

You aren't all that worried despite the blindfold. You have trust issues but if nothing else, you trust Yuushi. And if letting him drag you around blindfolded will persuade him of it, so be it. Still if you don't get to your destination soon… He can't blame you; you're new at this.

"You'll like it, Keigo. I promise." He guides you by the hand, his voice excited. You smile and don't try to hide it. Something you know he likes. If only you could see him, you think wistfully.

"Okay, we're here."

You can hear the crinkle of grass and the laughter of small children. A park? The blindfold is taken away.

The horribly blue and white checkered table cloth, the wicker basket, the bottle of wine.…It can only be one thing. "A picnic," you state, a little in disbelief.

He grins winningly at you, adorably so. He holds up his hands. "I know, it's cheesy. But come, sit."

"Please tell me you didn't cook whatever's in there." You point at the basket. But you do sit.

"I, unlike you, can cook." He has a point; you've been known to burn pasta. "But don't worry; I asked the cook to prepare something. Of course I didn't tell them why." He starts getting out the plates and containers of food.

"Why not? Ashamed of me are you?" You're joking but the thought of him being embarrassed of you hurts. A lot. You pour yourself a glass of dark red wine, knowing he loves the richness of the flavor when you kiss.

"You know I'm not. If I was I wouldn't be doing this in broad daylight," he counters.

"Do what?" you ask. He takes the glass form your hand and puts down on the grass. He envelops you in his arms. And you melt as if on cue. Leaning back against him, something is different. "What's that smell? Did you change shampoos?" You inhale. Citrusy.

Not letting go, he reaches around you to take a sip of wine. After savoring the taste, he shrugs. "Yeah. You always looked, I don't know, sad."

You flush, wondering if you're really that easy to read. And then you start talking about anything, everything. The rest of the afternoon goes quickly with a lot of laughs, none of them strained, and brushing hands that promise even sweeter caresses. It's a nice way to spend the afternoon, outside with the one you love.

It's time to leave this little haven. You know he feels restless because the random touches are more teasing. You make sure to innocently rub against him when you fold the blanket. Making sure your arm touches his. He gives you a _look_. You laugh. So what, you think. There's no one else watching. As if reading your mind, he suggests, "Hey, let's go to somewhere more private."

There is a slight leer on his face. He looks calculating which you find makes him look hot. Such a cliché line, though, deserves just as trite a response. "Your place or mine?" you toss back. You have these repartees, each of you trying to outdo the other. It one of many reasons why he's perfect for you.

He thinks he's so smart. You chuckle. With a simpering smile that is perhaps a little impish you say, "Both. You go to yours I go to mine."

"I guess I walked into that one, didn't I?"

"I'm just trying to win here. But you're making it had. Were you always this competitive or did I just forget?"

"Seems you've forgotten a lot, Keigo." He pauses, cutting himself off. The light banter has proven to be tainted with old memories.

"Like what, Yuushi?" you ask. This can go two very different ways. He can answer you seriously, draw up painful memories and the fight will continue to cycle. Or…

"That I don't do uke." Or he can play it off like it's nothing. Your shoulders relax. The time of talking, and that time is soon, is not now.

"We'll see. First, we need a place."

He takes the blanket that you've just folded and swathes you in white and blue squares. He tugs you towards him and, ensnared, you are helpless to comply. You can feel the outline of his body through the thin blanket. You stay like that for a while. But then he steps backwards and you drop the blanket so there is nothing between you but a thin strip of air.

He leans closer as though drawn by an invisible string to close the sliver of emptiness. "I know. That's why I asked you, yours or mine?"

You touch his shoulder, strong and muscular. But at the same time bony. What a contradiction. You both are.

"Yours," you say firmly. Your mom has been brining women home; you'd stupidly told her about Yuushi's dinner date. Not what had happened afterwards, obviously. You thought she knew though; she'd said "Good night, Keigo," a little happier than she had in a while. It was almost as if she sensed you were changing.

"Yuushi! That you?" That voice. You and Yuushi turn around, the distance between you increasing. Taller, though not by much, lean and hair still as alarmingly red as ever, Mukahi Gakuto strode up to them.

"Oh, hey," Yuushi awkwardly greets him.

You turn to stare, not at the newcomer but at Yuushi. "What is he doing here?"

"What, Yuushi didn't tell you? I thought you told each other everything."

You never liked Gakuto's voice when he was at Hyoutei and you don't like it now. You have never wanted to punch anyone so badly. Your proverbial hackles rise.

"Yuushi and I have been seeing each other for the past three weeks. Explicitly." That stupid smile.

"He came to me after you so flagrantly unmanned him." Gakuto tosses his accusations at you. Each hit their mark with deadly precision.

You grit your teeth, knowing and hating that you can't order him to do laps.

"Gakuto-" Yuushi begins, trying to head him off but Gakuto keeps talking.

"What? Isn't it true or was that a lie you told me at dinner?" Gakuto returns, eyes wide with mock innocence.

"But now we're back together. So back off." How Yuushi can stand him is utterly beyond you.

"You broke his heart," Gakuto snarls at you. He turns to Yuushi, his tone softer but no less confused. "I'm your best friend; he's not going to get off easy. He broke your heart…"

"Gakuto, stop. We'll talk later." Yuushi's command is firm but not unkind. He touches his forehead, predicting a headache.

You're not sure who the last comment is directed at and cross your arms.

"You bet we will."

You bend down, exhaling slowly as you do, to pick up the checkered blanket. Yuushi comes and wraps you in it once more.

"I'll let you go once I've explained."

You nod, knowing you have no choice. Besides, it's not like he'll leave. This much you know.

"It's true that Gakuto has been with me a lot this week. We've gone to the gym, to parties together." Yuushi pauses before answering your question. "But not as a couple. People aren't _that _accepting. Gakuto was just playing with you; he doesn't like to see you so serious."

His explanation, or rather, his voice, calms you somewhat and you sag against him, bone tired. You duck your head, resting it on his shoulder. His bony yet muscular shoulder.

"Yuushi?" you ask into his neck.

"Yes?" He touches your hair, fingers brushing through the strands in the way he knows you like.

"Can I make love to you?"

There. You said it and you're not taking it back. While he was explaining himself, which he didn't really need to do because it was Gakuto and that said it all.

"Are you not happy?" Yuushi asks gently. "Do you not like it when I…Do I hurt you?" He's worried. About you. Someone so together and perfect was worried about you.

"No. I love it," you assure him. "You're always doing all the work. This time, I want to…." You pause, hoping he'll understand and fill in the blank. You need to do this.

"You want to be in control," Yuushi tells you, something in his expression is sad. He's still thinking of you as how you used to be. But you've _changed. _You feel different, better than you ever have. You want him to see the change, too.

"No, no. I want to make you feel incredible. How you make me feel." You smile shyly and he smiles back.

"Then, okay." Laughing, you kiss him. He kisses you back, hands strumming your sides like the violin he likes to play and the deal is sealed.

"Mine," he says. You think he's talking about which place to go and you agree without thinking.

"Yeah, yours." Your brain catches up a second later. Oh. "Well," you shrug, "it's true."

He has to rub it in, drive it home . "No, I mean you. You're mine."His smile widens and you blush but both of you are pleased.

"I know. And you're mine," you say softly, but he hears you. He catches your hand in his, fingers folding over each other, linking and never wanting to be untangled.


	8. Learn To Love Again

You know this is a big deal; Yuushi loves being in control almost as much as you do. You're gentle. You know what to do, how to make it nice and painless. Even though Yuushi is the only one you've ever been the bottom for; you know how to make it comfortable. Anyway, you want it to be the same for him, too.

You coat your fingers in lube, teasing the area before slowly sliding a finger inside him.

"Shit, that's _cold," _he grouses. You ignore him, happy when he groans, shifting around the intrusion. You smile, knowing the pleasure will come. You slip another finger in, tracing his insides.

"Quit teasing," he urges you. You remove your fingers, eager to get on with the show.

"Want to prepare me?" He nods, a bit apprehensive. You reach for him, wanting to kiss him.

He squeezes out more lotion and smoothes it on you. You can't help but shiver at the sensation; he's right, it is cold.

"That's enough," you whisper hoarsely. He spreads his legs invitingly, revealing himself.

You position yourself, sheathing yourself in the hot cavern of blistering heat. It feels incredible, just like you thought it would. So unbelievably tight. You tell him so, and he just smiles at you, tightly.

You pump in and out of him experimentally, setting a rhythm. You want to find that spot within him that will blow his mind.

When his back arches and he lets out a strangled yell, you know you've found it.

It's been a while since you were on top and you don't think you can last much longer. You know he can't, admiring his taut muscles. You start stroking him, thinking all that moaning and writhing suits him. Maybe he'd bottom more often if he knew how breathtaking he looked.

"You look so beautiful," Yuushi tells you before you can get the words out.

"As do you," you reply. "So out of control." You want him to _really _lose control. To be overcome by so much pleasure that he can't contain it. And you want to be the one to do it. There's no one else for you.

You start to really hammer into him, pulling almost entirely out before plunging back in. You jerk him off, timing it so that it's perfect.

After a particularly vicious hit to his prostrate, Yuushi comes with a yelp that sounds like your name. The sight of his control breaking, the hot streams of pearly white coming out, is what sets off your own reaction. The world around you brightens into a brilliant white before you stop thinking of descriptive words that won't do what happens next justice. You collapse on top of him, acknowledging Yuushi's arm that wraps around you.

"That was incredible, Keigo. Thank you." He's smiling. You can hear it in his voice.

You murmur, "No problem." You settle in for a nap, knowing that even as Yuushi arranges himself, he won't be going anywhere.

#

You're in a cage of some kind. Like a jail cell, you think. But you can't tell if you're inside or out of it. Imprisoned or outside looking in. You think you're outside of it.

Inside is Yuushi. And he's not alone. Gakuto is there with him. They're not having sex to your relief. No, they're just talking, heads bent close. Yuushi looks relaxed. Happy. And your relief disintegrates. _No._ You shout the word over and over, but they can't hear you. Too lost in their own world. You back away, scared and confused.

And then –

"Keigo!"

That voice. Yuushi's voice. You open your eyes, seeing his concerned ones. Your shoulder hurts and you rub it gingerly.

"I pinched you. Sorry, but you were thrashing around. And you wouldn't stop saying no…" Yuushi hesitates and then says, "Ah, you were saying Gakuto's name before that."

Your body tenses, Yuushi noticing the minute change. "Now, I'd be worried but I know how much you hate him."

He's joking but he looks concerned.

"You love me, right?" Even after everything, you still need to be sure.

"Of course. Keigo, what's this about?"

You want to say more but the sound of Yuushi's cell phone ringing stops you.

You reach across him, grabbing for his phone on the bedside table. Gakuto.

"Gakuto? Why is he calling you?" your voice is shaking, rising an octave. The dream is too close, too real. You try to keep calm. You wait for him to assure you nothing is wrong.

"Keigo! Stop!"

But you can't, you're incensed. You roll away from him. Trusting him was a mistake, you think wilding. Believing he could really love you was…

The sound the harsh contact of his palm to your smooth cheek resounds as you stare at him, shocked. You raise your hand to feel the sting of the slap.

You're brought back to your senses. "Why do I do it?" you whisper brokenly.

He takes your hand again with one of his and with the other, touches your charm point.

"You test people. You always have. At Hyoutei, it was through tennis."

That's right, you realize. "Because tennis doesn't lie."

It sounds foolish, but it's true. Yuushi understands. You love that he does.

"But people do. So you test them." You don't bother to ask when Yuushi sat down and decided he wanted to understand you. You don't want to know how many hours it took to analyze your antics, how he found the time. You attribute it to his genius.

Everyone remarks upon your admittedly remarkable eyes; they haven't seen Yuushi's though. They sparkle behind glasses and you're glad only you can see him like this.

You're always looking for the flaws in others, maybe because you don't want to look at your own.

"I remember, people thought I couldn't get you," Yuushi says out of the blue. He looks relaxed. Like he did in that dream with Gakuto, only not. He seems content.

"Yeah? Why's that?" you ask, snuggling against the crook of his neck.

"They thought you were in love with Jiroh."

You wince but then grow thoughtful. "Jiroh didn't. And I didn't."

"And neither did I."

You're glad so you say so. "I'm happy. People see what they want to see, not what's actually there."

"Is that so?" Yuushi asks.

You nod.

"But I see you. And I see your love and the respect you have for me. Is that just my imagination, am I only dreaming?" He challenges you.

"Perhaps," you say, knowing he'll probably cuff you on the head. But gently, because he loves you.

#

"I mean, I had a lot of fun. I finally got Atobe back for all he's done. But why did you do it?"

"I had to know if he'd really changed." Yuushi keeps his voice quiet, thinking wrongly that you're asleep.

"And?"

"I think we'll be fine."

"Good. And, tell him I'm sorry. You know, for kissing you that day. Did you tell him you were only indulging me? I think he really believed you would cheat on him. I've never seen him so furious." What Gakuto meant was he'd never seen the fearless captain of Hyoutei so close to tears. "So, yeah. Just tell him I'm sorry. And that I hope it works out."

You and Yuushi simultaneously hoped it did too.

"But Gakuto, he knows about _that._" Oh, yes you did_._ You had questioned him extensively about the one time he'd slept with Gakuto.

"He does? Shit. Um, how did you get out of that one?"

"I told the truth. You wanted me to be your first. He thought it was quite sweet." You snort mentally, sweet is right. As long as Yuushi never slept with anyone else ever again, you suppose it is fine.

"Ugh. He'll never let me live it down. Why did I have to fall for Ore-sama's boyfriend?"

Yuushi smiles at the word. Boyfriend.

"How's Hiyoshi?" Yuushi asks, skillfully changing the subject.

"Fine. The dojo renovations are done. You should come by sometime. Maybe bring Atobe? Wait, don't bring him. Who knows, maybe we could coax the Silver Pair to join us. And Jiroh and everyone else. We could have a Hyoutei reunion!"

It sounds like a disaster to Yuushi.

"Sure, that sounds wonderful," he lies, ever the gentleman.

"What sounds wonderful?" You roll over, pretending you haven't been listening the entire time.

"A reunion," Yuushi tells you before giving you a quick good morning kiss. Only you think it's a shame when he gives you quick ones so you lengthen it by adding some tongue. Yuushi drops the phone.

"Yuushi? Atobe is that you? Guys that's gross. I can _hear_ you. Okay, I'll talk to you later."

A beep later tells them Gakuto has hung up but neither really care all that much. They were too bent on exploring each other's bodies as though it was the first time.

#

Epilogue:

"Yuushi, I have a favor to ask." You think about the right way to say it. Today is the day both of you will remain in bed for the entire day. Alternating between making love, talking, and sleeping, everything is perfect. Or almost perfect. There's just one little hiccup. If you can get the words out. If he says yes.

"What is it Keigo?"

"Will you go to Tezuka and Fuji's wedding with me?" You're glad you get the names out without crying. It's been easier to think about them ever since Yuushi became yours… You're getting better and better at figuring him out. A feat no one has yet managed. So when he says nothing for a moment, it only takes you a few seconds before the last piece of the puzzle falls in to place. And you know exactly what to say to coax him. "As my boyfriend." There, now Yuushi can't refuse.

He nods, an easy smile tracing his eyes. His lips quirking. "Of course. Sure you won't be tempted?" He kisses you. Soulfully. He knows how much this means to you, to both of you.

"Not if you're there I won't be."

"Count me in."

"Thought so."

"Manipulative little…"

You glare at him, daring him to say it. Instead he breaks off laughing. Yuushi's laugh, free and unrestrained, is a clear sound. Maybe a little wholesome. Wholesome? Yuushi? That makes you chortle.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." You love being insufferable.

"Tell me." He looks exasperated but it doesn't show in his voice. You smirk.

"It's a secret." You know he loves you being insufferable. Even if he doesn't admit it.

"About me no doubt. Spill." He pauses before adding, "And we have no secrets."

You think about that. "That's not true. Oh, sure, I have none from you whatsoever. But the real question is, what are you hiding from me?"

You and Yuushi have always talked about you, why you are the way you are. You've never really questioned why he was the way he was. Why he wears glasses when he doesn't need to. Why he's such a romantic. It makes you feel bad. But there's time, now.

"Absolutely nothing."

"Ah, Yuushi. You're no fun," you start to pout but he kisses you before you can begin. You're a ball of energy; sex always does that for you. And knowing Yuushi is yours gives you a permanent high that rivals tennis and winning.

"Hey, I know why I'm Ore-sama, but why do they call you a tensai?" you bait him, loving him when he rolls his eyes and rises to it.

"I'll show you why."

Snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him, he does. Many times.

Yuushi asks you a question later that day, while the two of you are curled up in bed.

"You're different," he remarks.

"How have I changed?" you ask. But he only smiles, the bastard. But you know the answer anyway. You know what's different.

You're not scared of anything anymore. There's only one thing that truly scares you. The thought of losing Yuushi, of him leaving you. But that will never happen. That's what today was for; he promised he wouldn't leave your side. And he hadn't. Today proved that this time, you would find your happily ever after. Between Yuushi and Ore-sama, you're invincible. And it's true, even though it took a while, Ore-sama is back.

~Fin


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